Forbidden Love
by GryffinRawr
Summary: Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Round 7 - Seeker. Hermione is confused because it wasn't Ron that she smelt in her Amortentia potion, who was it and why is she so upset about that? HG/DM Slight OOC


**A/N: This is my first entry as proper seeker for the Chudley Cannons! And I am very excited I hope that you really enjoy it. I had to make sure to write about the Amortentia potion in this fic so here you go!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything that J.K. wrote!**

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Forbidden Love

Hermione didn't know what she was more embarrassed about. The fact that she had stuttered in front of the entire class or just what she had smelled in that batch of Amortentia.

Why did she have to be such a know-it-all? Why did she have to prove to everyone that she knew all of the answers? Why, oh why, did she have to go up there and take a great big breath of that potion?

Hermione buried her head into her pillow and screamed feeling better as the muffled rage and confusion left her body.

She was so, so confused. She could have sworn, would have put any amount of money on her feelings for Ron. The jealousy that ran through her body whenever she saw him with that slut Lavender Brown should have meant that it was Ron that she liked, that she had feelings for. He should have been her heart's desire, but for some reason he wasn't.

She didn't know what possessed her to share something so private with the whole class but she had gone ahead and done it anyway. When Hermione leant over that cauldron in the middle of potions class she smelt four things. Freshly cut grass: that's fine, normal a lovely smell! New parchment: unsurprising, everyone knows what a huge bookworm she is. Spearmint toothpaste: she has dentists for parents! Good tooth care is just good sense.

It was the fourth smell, the smell that she faltered on the smell that made her make a fool out of herself in front of the whole class. She was making a fool out of herself.

"Hermione?" She sat up off the bed as a familiar voice called up the stairs. "Hermione, I can't come up you know that. Come down we're going to be late for potions."

Hermione groaned flopping back down into the pillows. She never thought that she would see the day when Harry Potter was the one telling her that she was going to be late. Not only had she been made a fool of but now even Harry was more willing to go to class than she was. She pulled herself off the bed, cleaned her face and scraped her hair back, there was no hope of taming the unruly mess into anything vaguely presentable.

"I'm coming!" she grabbed her bag and faced the mirror. "Listen to me Hermione Granger, you are going to go to class and you are going to be fine. This means nothing, nothing has changed. We both know that Professor Slughorn can be stupid sometimes and who knows he might have brewed the potion wrong. This changes nothing. You are smart and you are confident, don't let anyone or anything take this from you."

"Hermione!"

"I said I was coming Harry Potter don't you give me so much sass!" she shouted stomping out of the room and down the stairs to face a wide eyed Harry Potter in the common room just outside of the staircase.

"A-are you okay Hermione?" he stuttered, looking utterly confused and a teensy bit terrified.

"Yes of course," she took a deep breath, "now come on Harry or we really are going to be late."

X

Five minutes later, three minutes after the lesson had already begun, Harry and Hermione burst breathless through the door to the potions classroom. Hermione scanned the room and was instantly confused; Ron was next to Pansy Parkinson instead of Lavender who was now sat next to Blaise Zabini. _Oh no,_ she thought with rising dread as it dawned on her, _we have new, mixed, potions partners._

"Mr Potter, Miss Granger, how nice of you to join us," boomed Professor Slughorn looking deceptively jolly. The pair of students hung their heads blushing slightly mumbling their apologies. "Well," he declared, "let us delay no longer, Mr Potter please take a seat beside Miss Bulstrode, Miss Granger you are next to Mr Malfoy at the back there. Now class today we will be brewing our very own Amortentia potions-"

Hermione tuned out the rest of her Professors words as she took a seat next to the blonde snake who had always repulsed her. She recalled fondly the time in third year when she had punched him straight in the nose, muggle style, and the way he had squealed like a little girl. Now she was sat blushing and squirming with nervous and mortification as her senses were filled with the scent that she had tried so desperately to block out for the past 24 hours.

The cold, crisp scent of snow. Fresh but clean that seemed to follow the Slytherin boy everywhere. She didn't know if it was just because he lived under the lake or because he had a heart made of ice.

Hermione Granger had always considered Draco Malfoy to be passably handsome, just because he was a nasty person who had made it his life's work to degrade her and mock her didn't mean that she was blind after all. Merlin knows that she would never openly admit that she found him attractive but clearly the heart wants what the heart wants.

Whilst she was lost in her inner musings Slughorn stopped his ramblings and the class stood as one. The flurry of activity jolted Hermione out of her thoughts and she jumped up, noticing that Draco had already gone to the potions cupboard to collect their supplies. She busied herself setting up the cauldron and getting the right temperature.

They worked in mostly silence, only speaking when they had to ask for something, until Hermione had finished stirring and their potion was left to simmer. Hermione sat back in her stool and settled herself in for a long, silent wait.

"Listen Granger," she snapped around to look at the young Malfoy who was speaking almost civilly to her. "You were late," he sneered (almost civilly) "so you won't know this but these partnerships are for the rest of the year. Now I don't want to fail potions so I am proposing a temporary truce. _Temporary_ , because I don't want to be nice to a mud- to a Gryffindor like you for longer than I have to be. What do you say?"

Hermione examined him closely before offering the boy a slight smile. "Okay then," she said turning back to watch their simmering potion. Maybe his heart wasn't so icy after all.

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